


A Drop In The Ocean

by BlueEyedArcher



Series: Outlast One-Shots [25]
Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Abduction, Alternate Universe - Military, Alternate Universe - Scientists, Amputation, Angst and Feels, Black Markets, Captivity, Depression, Domestic Fluff, Drowning, Drugs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Forced Feeding, Government Agencies, Guro, Hallucinations, Illegal Activities, Imprisonment, M/M, Mad Scientists, Man made merman, Master/Pet, Medical Experimentation, Medical Torture, Merman Miles, Miles is still a journalist, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Self-Harm, Sick Character, Soldier Chris to the rescue, Terminal Illnesses, Torture, Whistleblower Waylon, self experimentation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-01-27 21:00:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12590420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueEyedArcher/pseuds/BlueEyedArcher
Summary: Miles Upshur is given a tip on a sketchy looking story about Marine Biologist Richard Trager and the illegal activities going on at his facility. At first the journalist is hesitant to take the lead but the footage he receives was too much to pass up when the opportunity to take down the sleaze bag once and for all arises. Little does he know that the mad scientist was waiting for him and the consequences of the journalist's nosiness will be the end of his life as he knows it and throw him into a nightmare he can't escape.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was an idea that came to me while looking at guro art on tumblr through the spirit of Halloween and one piece inspired this bit. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Miles wasn’t the type of person to take leads from crazed PETA protesters. A majority of the time they were uneducated on the actual treatment of animals such as the misunderstanding where they protested a dairy farmer because they thought cows were killed for their milk. Which was incorrect. Or the time they unleashed a whole bunch of invasive species into an ecosystem that could not sustain them and most of the animals they thought they were saving from the animal sanctuary ended up dead by the end of the week. They weren’t the most reliable people to go by and that was saying something considering his usual contacts.

 

But when an email leap into his inbox late one night with the subject line “MOUNT MASSIVE MARINE SLAUGHTER” his curiosity and outright sleep deprivation drove him to open the email and give it a read. The email had little written within it, just a repeat of the title line and a video clip with “Watch Me!” written above. He clicked on it and opened it to full screen. It showed the well known and somewhat sketchy Mount Massive Aquarium and Marine Biology building. It was a massive compound structure that was quite dilapidated and had to be in violation of half a dozen building codes. The only thing he could think of was it was old enough and repurposed enough to be grandfathered in. The footage appeared to be through someone’s car window and it shifted to the side to where the window was cracked, allowing a less obstructed viewing of the back of the building.

 

Two big semi’s were pulled into the back, one of them was backed all the way up to the bay doors to the loading dock and the other had just backed up but didn’t turn into the loading bay. The back of the truck was in full view as the doors rolled up and several men climbed out. There were huge pallets and cold storage containers within, buckled down to prevent being moved too much in transit. Several minutes passed by and the head of the Aquarium, Richard Trager, emerged; a tall slim man with a beaky nose and circular wire rimmed spectacles resting on the bridge of it. He walked out of the backdoor with two men following and a massive metal trolley carted something huge and lifeless behind. Their was a tarp draped over it, making it hard to see what it was until the man pulled it back. The camera zoomed in to show a dolphin, one of the rare exhibits in the building with its pink hue of flesh and the pigment anomalies of darker violet splotches. It was a rare mutation that was unheard of which was why the Aquarium took the pool creature in. It wouldn’t survive the wilds with that coloring. Predators would hone right into it.

 

The men looked over the specimen, disregarding whatever nasally spiel the marine doctor was going on about. There was the exchange of a briefcase which one of the two men in dark uniforms took. The men from the truck pulled the trolley up into it and lifted the specimen, tarp and all to be put into cold storage. Several minutes later and the men closed up the truck and started to pull away. Trager shoved his hands into his lab coat pockets and strolled back into the building with his two lackeys in tow. A minute or so later and the video cut out. Another link was present at the bottom of the email.

 

When he clicked on it, he found an article about a woman from a couple weeks prior. The girl had dark skin tones, possibly a foreign given the name and her physical traits. She was beautiful, the image that headed the article was of her floating in a pool with a dark pink wet suit on. As he read through the article, it stated she had gone missing suddenly and there were no leads as to what had happened. She was last seen working at the Aquarium, preparing for a show with one of the main attractions. At the bottom of the article was another image, of her swimming with the pink hued dolphin from the above video. It stated that she was the personal handler and trainer for Pastel the pink Dolphin.

 

Miles sighed, leaning back as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He had just finished two of his latest pieces and was looking for another. This one was kind of interesting though since the men in the truck had a lot of expensive high tech equipment and what was going on was illegal. And Trager was known for having questionable alliances. Several times it has been brought into question as to where he accumulates suspiciously large sums of money for the program. He says it’s all very generous anonymous donations. Without any solid proof that it is dirty money or actual anonymous assistance, nobody has been able to get very far in their investigations.

 

Miles groaned, shaking his head and cursing himself and his weak spot for animals. He didn’t sympathize with PETA people one bit when they get harassed but illegal killing and harming of animals made his stomach twist up into knots. Not saying he will turn down a nice big juicy burger with a side of bacon or skip over on the steak dinner on date nights, but other than that, he supported the whole survival of the fittest thing and the fact humans are natural carnivores and meat just naturally tastes fucking delicious. He wasn’t about to turn a blind eye to a bunch of black market poachers or overlook the chance to finally take down a well known sleaze bag of a man. It was just too good to pass up.

 

He downloaded the files onto a flash drive encase something happens to his laptop as backup evidence and tucked it away in safe keeping. Should anything happen to him, his best friend would know where to find it and who exactly to go after for the journalist’s sudden disappearance. After that, he did some double checking on his camera, switched out the memory card to a fresh one and put a few extra batteries in his pocket. He snatched up his keys and to his jeep he went, prepared to get into the thick of this investigation and quick. He was already getting immensely bored.

  
  


It took him an hour’s drive to reach the Aquarium and the place looked just as shitty and dilapidated as in the video. It had been a while since he had been here of all places. Actually the last time he went was for a school  field trip. The place was under different management at the time and wasn’t as creepy or shitty. But then the previous owner fell ill about a year later and died mysteriously. Nobody could figure out what was wrong but they assumed it was just the stress finally got one over on them and moved on.

 

The building was the same old large concrete compound with crappy shingling on the roof that looked about ready to all come tumbling off. The sidewalk leading up to the building was cracked and the entire back side wall facing the parking lot had structural damage from the wear and tear of the weather. There was a large metal panel fence that blocked the view of the outdoor pools and tanks where the shows were held, barbed wiring kept people from climbing up and over. He wandered around the exterior for some time before he finally found the door he was looking for. It’s frame work was worn out and the door frame itself was bowing in places. A few choice spots pressed against and some finagling of the lock with an ID card and he was inside through the back service door.

 

It let him into a maintenance bay full of massive containers and pipe systems. It was sweltering inside compared to the outdoors, the heat coming from all the hard working heavy machinery. On top of that, it was incredibly loud, making his ears ring as he turned on his camera and used it to navigate through the darker points of the bay. Following the signs out to the tanks and around the feeding pens where large amounts of frozen sardines and feeder fish were kept for the larger marine life. The stench of fish was overwhelming and stung at his nostrils. He cursed, swearing that this smell was going to follow him for a while after this case. He walked along a catwalk that went out towards the center of one of the largest of the pools. Leaning over the railing, he got a good look at the marine life below, or lack thereof. There were three other pools in the outdoor area that were empty as well. He made a sound as he back tracked, following the maintenance path and working open yet another locked door to let him into the indoor area.

 

There the smell of salt water and the stench of fish hit him, making him stop in his tracks and press the sleeve of his jacket up against his face. He grimace, giving a shudder of disgust and pushing onward. The saltiness in the air made his eyes sting as he followed yet another darkened catwalk past a series of water tanks that regulated and cleansed the water in the pools. Two of the larger cleansing filters were off, giving his ears a brief reprieve from the loud whirring noise. He worked his way further in, looking at the pipe systems and finally crossing yet another locked threshold and entering the much quieter pool room.

 

He flashed his camera around trying to get a good shot of the large facility and the occupants within. Or the emptiness of the tanks. There were four massive tanks easily labeled for each animal that was supposed to reside within. Two dolphin tanks, an Orca tank and then there was a manatee tank. The seal tank and turtle tanks were up ahead in another section of the pools but he didn’t move from where he was just yet. One of the tanks that was empty was labeled for “Pastel the Pink Dolphin”. The pool itself had a strange hue to the water making it look darker than the rest of the tanks. He noted the filtration system was shut off for this one as the flow of the water and its surface was undisturbed by ripples.

 

Leaning over the edge of the catwalk, he set his camera off to the side to get a better look at the water. Scooping it up into his hands to glance over it. The scent of the salt couldn’t cover up the bone chilling metallic smell that permeating from the surface. The water was cold and in his palms were small congealed lumps of what he could only assume was blood. He cursed and reached out for his camera once again only to find it wasn’t in place. He looked up to find a large hulking form of one of the men he had seen in the video. Turning quickly, he moved into a crouch, about to back off when he was grabbed up from behind. Large meaty hands reaching around to his front and hooking their forearm up against his throat and pulling back. One of his arms was pinned painfully up against his spine and twisted.

 

A nasally voice gave a mirthless laugh of delight. It scraped on Miles’ nerves as he recognized the voice. The tall beaky nosed doctor stepped through the threshold of the maintenance room and clapped a firm hand over the larger bald male’s form. The signal was enough to make the man back off, holding out the camera to the doctor as he examined it. Miles gritted his teeth as the footage was looked over, a smug smile spread across his face as he aimed it towards Miles.

 

“Well now, the little mouse has finally been caught. Tough luck buddy.” Trager chuckled, bringing the camera right up to Miles’ face and getting a good long shot at the disheveled brunette. Glossing over emerald eyes that glared daggers back at the doctor. “Hm, now what to do? What to do? You look a little hot headed there buddy. You know what, I think I have the perfect cure for that.” Trager snapped his fingers and Miles was jerked at an awkward angle and pressed up against the railing. The small chain that prevented people from falling in was moved and the large male at his back held him there.

 

“You’re fucking nuts! Let me go you bastards!” Trager pressed something cold against Miles’ neck, teasing a needle across his skin.

 

Miles clammed up, his body going rigid and emerald eyes widening as the doctor grinned. A low sound of triumph leaving his lips and ghosting over Miles’ ear. “Let’s see how well this one can swim.” He pressed the needle into Miles’ neck and forced the acrid fluid inside his veins. It burned immensely, drawing a groan from the brunette. They waited a moment more before the needle was removed and the large male pushed the journalist over the edge and into the pool. The doctor recorded the spectacle as Miles struggled to swim. His arms flailing around uselessly. His entire body felt far too heavy as his limbs began to go numb and fall asleep on him. He felt paralyzed and dizzy.

 

He started to sink and before he could catch himself, he slipped beneath the surface of that bloodied water. The metallic tang rushed over his tongue and his lungs burned for oxygen as he sank deeper and deeper into the darkness of the tank. The salt water burning his eyes and the overwhelming dizziness of suffocation rushed over him. His thoughts were broken. Clinging to the need to swim. To move but not a single muscle wanted to budge or obey. He could barely see the shadows above watching his demise as his vision blurred and darkened and the exhausting urge to sleep claimed him.

  
  
  
  
  


Upon seeing the male sink to the bottom and the last signs of breathing had left the brunette’s form in rising bubbles, the doctor purred with an idea. “Pull him back out. I want him taken to my lab immediately.” The doctor barked before turning away from the tank. The two large men looked at each other and grunted in annoyance as one dove into the tank to retrieve the pesky mouse of a journalist. The body wasn’t breathing when they pulled him out but the doctor didn’t say anything about reviving him.  By time they lugged the form back to Trager’s lab which was set up like a massive surgical room used most often for emergency medical work on the occupants of the aquarium. Everything was already prepared for the male’s arrive. The doctor held a pair of shears which he used to cut off every last piece of the brunette’s clothing, depositing it off to the side and starting his work to restart the journalist’s heart. It took a few minutes but the monitor showed it was successful with the steady beating of a young and healthy heart, accented with every beep of the high points.

 

The male’s body was pale, stripped down to nothing and lying on the cold metal table like a piece of meat and to the doctor, that was pretty much all he was. That is until he turns him into a masterpiece. The culmination of all his research and preparation rolled into one fantastic result.  

  
  
  
  
  
  


It took two entire days to accomplish. Endless work and tests and three different times his specimen flat lined on him but the mad doctor didn’t give up. He was nothing if not determined, especially with something he has his heart set on. This would be the highlight of his career. A beautiful transformation of lowly useless man into a creature beyond myth. He wasn’t going to let it slip through his fingers and he couldn’t have asked for a better specimen. He wasn’t in the best health considering he showed signs of being a smoker but that didn’t matter now. The rest of him was perfectly fit and toned. Healthy weight and body size, his body was much more accepting to change and he was durable. God was it durable. Perfection at it’s best. The mad doctor just wished he had several more at his disposal.

 

First and foremost, the legs had to go. It was problematic for his intended needs. They were useless anyway with what Trager was anticipating. He would give him something better, much much better. There was a lot of tedious work, a lot of substitution and alterations, not just with the exterior of his specimen but his organs and nerves had some troubles ‘reconnecting’ to the new parts.  There were a few times that he thought it wouldn’t work and was about to change his plans when he’d find the perfect route to go. The grafting of skin was another problem  but he figured that out as well with time. Even added a few smaller additions to help his new ‘pet’ be more obedient.

 

The end result was mesmerizing and was like something out of a science fiction movie but oh, that just made it all the more exciting. He kept his pet under a drug induced sleep for another whole week so it would heal and there wouldn’t be anything stressing it out and ruining all of his hard work. He filmed the simpler tests such as touch and light electrical stimulation. He took photos of the progress as he went along and tended to the surgical incisions as they healed. Ensuring they wouldn’t tear or break.

 

The final day came where the drugs would wear off and the fruits of his labor could be realized. It took a few hours for the drugs to fade before the brunette male started to stir. His emerald eyes struggled to focus, a heavy film had settled over them that made it hard to peer through the blurry vision. He blinked it away his head felt far too heavy and his body wouldn’t move like he wanted it to. He whimpered pitifully, the sound was more of a squeak that left his throat. He felt something cold lapping at his form. Water rippling around his body as a filtration system hummed softly in the small wading pool. It wasn’t very deep, just half a foot or so. The water was strange but the fog in his mind wouldn’t allow him to think on it too much. He was wading through the heavy mists that clouded his thoughts, making it hard to piece things together.

 

His eyes glanced around at the darker room. The only light illuminating it was from the lining of the pool. His gaze hovered over the odd hump rising out of the water, the strange crescent curve that rested on the surface and the pointed dorsal like attachment. _‘Fish…’_ Was the first thing that crossed his mind. Everything felt hazy and dreamlike as he reached a hand out to touch it. To make sure it was really there. His fingertips pressing over the soft smooth grey flesh. The white streaks along the sides that caught the glow of the lighting just right. A shiver ran through him, a strange sensitive tingly sensation like something was touching his side. When he pulled his hand back lazily, the sensation stopped. He did it again, stroking the hump of flesh and it returned.

 

It took him several minutes to catch on that the sensation was caused by his own touch. He shifted in place and the rest of the form moved too, the crescent end curled up and splashed the water out of the tank. He jerked and it did it again. The body writhing as he tried to move his legs to crawl away. He clutched at the clear glass sides of the pool and pulled at them to get his feet underneath him but pain jolted through his abdomen. A deep ache that caught him by surprise and he buckled over, grasping at his hollow empty stomach. He shivered, his body trembling with weakness and the struggle to move what didn’t want to obey him.

 

His legs didn’t want to work well, they felt heavy and dead to him. He pulled himself along the glass, flexing his bare torso and muscular shoulders in the process, the ache of weakness making them burn from the lack of use. He opened his mouth to speak, giving a cry for help. A desperate pleas to anybody but all that came out was a shriek. High pitch and more whistle like. His throat burned with the sound as he reached up to caress it. There was a soft line in his skin right over the dip where his vocal cords were. He rubbed his fingers over it, recognizing it for a surgical incision. Or at least a healed one. He looked down at himself, patting at his torso when he realized the grey form was connected to his torso. He jolted, giving another shrill cry out that was disrupted by the sound of laughter nearby.

 

His emerald eyes were wide and frightened as he gazed upon the doctor. He had Miles’ camera in hand, recording every second of his specimen’s awakening. “You can scream and cry all you want, but nobody will hear you. Besides, you can’t speak. I made certain of that. No point in having the perfect pet if it’s got a mouth on it.” The doctor chuckled again and moved towards the tank. Miles drew away from the edge but it was futile. The pool was small enough that the doctor could reach him from any side. A hand dipped down into the cooler temperature of the water, Miles thought it was cold but to the doctor it was lukewarm. His fingers curled over the massive dolphin tail that rested just beneath the surface and stroked the edge. A long sharp whistling sound left Miles’ chest as he jerked away. The stimulation sent tingling shocks all the way up his tail and into his spine.

 

He whimpered, feeling the tears brim at his eyes from the realization. _‘This can’t be fucking happening. This isn’t real.  It can’t be.’_ The doctor walked along the edge of the tank towards where Miles had pressed his back against the glass. Kneeling down beside it, Miles took in the close proximity of the male as an instinctive defensive response kicked in. He lunged, striking out at the doctor and hitting him hard enough to knock his glasses off his face and to the floor. Trager was momentarily blindsided but he recovered quickly with a backhand to the brunette’s cheek, knocking him back into the glass. Miles’ body jerked, the tail splashing pitifully in an attempt to gain leverage in the water. Trager bent over and retrieved his spectacles, placing them over the pale grey eyes, they were cold and harsh compared to the earlier laughter that left his chest. He fixed the camera in hand, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Dangerous and cruel as he reached into his lab coat pocket. “I see you’re in need of some training then pet. I think I can handle that.”

 

Miles’ eyes widened as the doctor’s hand shifted in the pocket, a soft clicking like a dial being scaled up sounded. He felt something inside his body clench tightly. His stomach twisting in fear before a humming could be heard. A sudden terrible sensation jolted through his body, startling and terrifying as his back arched and what little strength he had withered. Shrill squeals and cries filled the air as he writhed, the humming was deep inside his abdomen, where the surgical incision laid out the map work where fish and man joined together. “Misbehavior and disobedience will be swiftly dealt with.” The doctor crooned. “I kept your organs and bodily functions intact. Including your prostate. A simple stimulant applied to the spot before the second phase began and it works just as easily as a shock collar does a worthless mongrel.” The vibrations were maddening as heat bubbled inside him. Tears peaked at the corners of his eyes as a sour bile rose in his throat. He was helpless. This man, this monster had him and there was nothing he could do. He was a monster.

 

The doctor knelt down beside Miles’ form as it lay collapsed and spasming from the toy, his tail twitching and curling, small splashed swirled in the waters but he didn’t mind. He placed a hand over the male’s abdomen, trailing gloved fingers over the incisions, inspecting them for any irritation or breaks. He splayed his fingers out and applied slight pressure, feeling for any internal hemorrhaging from the upset. He nearly forgot about the stimulant but when the brunette shrieked at him, bleary emerald orbs streaking tears down his face and mixing with the pool around him. He clicked his tongue, giving Miles’ a stern look. “Will you obey like a good boy?” Miles bit back the acrid taste in his throat and swallowed thickly. His throat felt swollen and it was hard to breath. He gasped, his body trembling as he gave a weak nod.

 

Trager gave a pleased smile that further sickened the brunette. He held completely still as the dial was turned off and the vibrations faded out. The doctor noted the brunette was shivering afterwards, noting the twisted despair in his features but only raising the camera and zooming in with a sickening amount of amusement. Miles felt completely and utterly violated. This body wasn’t his anymore. It wasn’t even human anymore and _this man…._ His breath hitched when the gloved hand moved over his abdomen again, applying pressure in sore and tender areas.

 

Small shrieks and whistling sounds left Miles’ throat as he endured the inspection. The hand rolling down along his tail and caressing the hump and dips where it curved. Fingertips sliding up and over the dorsal fin as he was pushed over onto his side with a nudge. Miles clutched at the sides of the pool to try and support himself as those hands touched all over his body. The camera following every inch of the process with disturbing precision. “Magnificent.” Trager purred, gripping Miles’ bicep and yanking him back over to face him. A damp latex glove gripped his chin as the camera was focused on his features. “I can feel the growls of your empty stomach. Now is a perfect time for feeding. Gotta make sure I didn’t connect the wrong tubes in your guts together.” He grinned, a sharp laugh trickling out as he added. “Oh well, any complications can always be fixed with some corrective surgery. Know what I mean?” The man drank up the terrified expression on the young journalist’s face as he backed away, holding up the camera for one last shot before he left his specimen. He chimed cheerfully.  “Smile for the camera.”


	2. A Drop In The Ocean (Merman Miles Art Piece)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a companion piece made by Zeck143 on tumblr for this piece specifically. they were inspired after reading it and crated this magnificent piece. Check them out!
> 
> http://zeck143.tumblr.com/


	3. Disobedience Deserves Discipline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merman Training 101: How to make your merman obey the Trager way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't really sure about continuing this but now I've decided i will.

The next several days had been hell for the brunette. As if it wasn’t already bad enough that he had a dolphin body sewn to his torso, the mad doctor wished to perform a series of tests to ensure everything was in working condition. It would have been a relief to know the doctor at least valued his survival but Miles wasn’t really sure he wanted to survive much longer. Not like this. He’d rather embrace the cold grasp of death then continue on as some freak science experiment. First things first was feeding time. Miles dreaded the slurry concoction the mad doctor had his dimwitted lackeys deliver in a cup complete with a straw. It smelled rather fishy upon arrival and Miles didn’t mean that in a suspicious way. It, like everything else in that god forsaken compound, smelled like fish. Badly.

 

It was a grayish pinkish hue that was abnormal and sickening to his stomach, making him retch up what little remained in his guts. That mostly being bile and acidic fluid. The rejection of the meal wasn’t taken too lightly once the mad doctor witnessed the mess his specimen caused. Miles received another hard backhand across the face and the lackeys were made to clean it up. He was manhandled and pulled over to the side of the tank where he couldn’t flee their grasps. Given a light anesthetic that would make him weak and docile. Then the mad doctor had an I.V placed into his arm and forced a nasal tube into his stomach through his nostril. Then proceeded to pump the disgusting concoction into him.

 

They kept him held firmly in place even after the substance had settled into his stomach. Ensuring his body didn’t reject it or cause complications before they removed the tubes. Once the mad doctor was certain, he freed his specimen from the tubes but left the I.V, leaving him to curl up into the shallows like a small frightened animal. His tail curled up towards his torso as his stomach grumbled and gurgled, trying to process the first bits of somewhat solid food he’s had in over a week. A gloved hand stretched out, following the I.V tube to ensure it wasn’t going to get tangled up or hooked on anything before it made its way to pat at the male’s damp silky milk chocolate locks. Curling his fingers into them in a way that was gentle and one could say almost fond. But the loving gesture was far from care for the human being he had turned into a monster. It was a man, proud of his creation and stroking his own ego at the same time. Not a single bit of warmth was turned towards the ex-journalist at all. For he was but an object, like a trophy to polish and admire. Nothing more.

 

“Disobedience desires discipline. Remember that my pet.” The silver haired scientist sighed, not wearily but with a pleasant sort of contentment as is he was pleased with the outcome of the evening. He withdrew his hand from Miles’ hair after a few more strokes through it then stepped away from the tank. He left a surveillance camera situated on the tank to ensure he had eyes on his specimen the entire time. Should anything go wrong, he’d know immediately.

 

The ex-journalist remained where he was left for some time before he started to stir. Trying to push through the heavy fog that the drugs had settled over his mind and enveloped. Making him vulnerable and weak limbed. He slowly raised his head to give the room a curious glance. Groggy green orbs searching for anything out of the ordinary other then the open expanse of emptiness and the single worktable nearby where many tools and equipment were kept. There was a push cart setting beside it where the supplies would be routinely wheeled back and forth and a transportation cart sitting beside that. The same kind he saw in the video as Pastel the Pink dolphin’s corpse was wheeled off with.

 

He reached out to grip the I.V with his whole fist, his fingers were having trouble working. Fumbling over intricate details. As he ripped the needle out of his arm, several drops of blood dribbled down from the needle point and infected the water with the red tinge. Soon dismissed with the shifting of his tail as he twisted around in place best he could. Gripping the side of the pool. It took several tries before he got a firm enough grip to push himself up over the edge, using his upper body strength to carry the nearly dead weight of his lower half. Still unable to control it, his tail just splashed around uselessly as the nerves and muscles twitched and flexed. He gritted his teeth as the burning pain in his stitches around his abdomen filled his chest and torso.

 

He rocked back and forth before throwing himself over the side to land onto his stomach on the cold concrete floor. He gasped, wheezing with every breath as the pain became excruciating. The familiar acidic burn of bile rising in his esophagus warned him that he was on the verge of being sick. He took a moment to catch his breath and let his stomach settle before he started to drag himself across the floor. His shoulders ached and burned with every motion and he felt the taut pull on his stomach as the previous dead weight was even worse outside of the water. He took a few brief pauses to catch his breath. His heart hammering in his chest from the sudden strenuous activity and his body fighting the sedatives to keep going. He neared the doorway nearby, finding the ground floor door to be locked. His only other escape option was the set of stairs leading up to a viewing room above that allowed the occupants to watch over the tanks on the other side of that. Near where Miles had been captured and probably where he had been spotted out on the catwalk on the first place.

 

He grasped at the steps and started the slow climb up each one. There was about thirty of them in total, each made of a cold metal that grated against the smooth body of his dolphin form. Leaving irritated streaks across the additional body parts but he paid them no mind. Fearing what was to become of him if he was caught. Even so, he didn’t make it far before he had reached full exhaustion. The drugs couldn’t be pushed off any longer and his body was worn out from hauling the dead weight. The pain in his stomach spread to his chest and made everything a dizzy whirlwind. He was growing increasingly nauseas as well. At about two thirds of the way up, he lost consciousness on the steps. One arm looped through the metal levels, hooked onto it for dear life and applying a painful pressure to his shoulder that was bordering dislocation. His head plopping down the few inches to the step and giving himself a bloody nose. His heart ached with a sharp pain that radiates into his arm, feeling on the verge of cardiac arrest from the stress he was putting his body through after such a drastic procedure.

 

Trager had noticed the absence of the male from the tank and decided to investigate the problem. The last thing he expected was to find the brunette hung up on the steps, his tail and lower half drying out quickly and covered in the filth from the floor. A wet trail exposed the route taken from the tank and the abundance of water that had sloshed out with him. He noticed the blood spreading across the steps and dripping down onto the floor below, using the tip of his shoe, he lifted Miles’ limp head from the surface to see the unceasing hemorrhaging of his nostril. The same one he had forced the tube into, possibly irritating the tissue to later cause the bleed. There was a bruise forming on the side of Miles’ face already from where he had backhanded him for his behavior as well as slight swelling around his jaw.

 

He commended the boy for making it so far. He certainly had one hell of a will to him which was what made him so special. If he hadn’t the fierce will to live, he would have never survived the operation. All the past subjects lacked that spark. That fire. Even if it boiled down to the most simplest of spite turned towards him. They lacked it and replaced it instead with fear and an enduring wish for death which was a swift ally on their end of things but Trager was determined to keep this one for himself.

 

He let Miles’ head lie back against the steps and paged the twin lackeys to come and carry the unconscious hybrid to the work table against the wall. Clearing it off so he could be examined better. He returned the I.V to Miles’ arm and inspected the rapid influx of pulse just from the amount of activity it was forced to endure. He was surprised the male’s heart didn’t explode from the stress. He decided preventative measures and even more training would be necessary. The twins were directed to install a special fixture from above the pool. A chain would hang down to where Miles was kept, after having his body thoroughly scrubbed clean once more and the pool water exchanged and warmed to a suitable temperature. A collar was locked around his throat and the chain attached to it. Allowing him to move around the pool unhindered but keeping him from being able to leave it without Trager’s say so. It was an easy and simple enough fix for now. Until some obedience and respect could be enforced into the youth’s thick skull.

 

The doctor took some extra time to run a few tests. Taking some routine samples while his specimen was behaving himself and having a nice little nap. He gathered blood, skin cell and saliva samples. As well as did a thorough full body examination every hour or so to check for any signs of fatal injuries such as internal bleeding from all the activity and inspected for any broken or damaged bones. For every extra wound in Miles’ body, it only served to increase his time healing which made Trager have to postpone the next steps in the process until he had reached a healthy and more durable state once more.

 

He kept his specimen under for two more days. Providing I.V fluids and nutrients in the process to keep him from dying or suffering malnutrition. Once some of the injuries had healed up to a less noticeable problem and the bruises started to fade in some areas, Trager allowed Miles to wake of his own accord but remained ever present incase his pet decided to try more issues. Something the doctor was determined to deter the best he could with some training. Even a wild dolphin is trainable and Trager was determined to make an example out of Miles. After all, he was the first success and he didn’t want the male to sabotage himself any further or hinder his studies until the natural course of life was lived. Or until Trager receives all the data he needs to move on and make more with additional improvements.

 

It was late into the afternoon when Miles started to stir, making a soft swishing sound with his tail moving back and forth in the pool. Disturbing the water into little swirls and waves. His green eyes were groggy and once more, he was awaking to a mass of pain throughout his body. The surgical fusion at his abdomen and waist felt on fire from the strenuous activity he had engaged in and his shoulders and back were bruised from pulled or strained muscles. His entire back was a mass of protesting nerves as well. It took him several minutes to realize there was a heavy weight of a chain hanging near his head and shoulders. He reached up slowly and touched it, following it down to the collar latched firmly around his throat. It was water resistant and had a special lock that only Trager could access with his key. The same for the chain attachment. It took even longer past his inspection of the heavy durable links that he was not alone in the room. That realization was accompanied by a nasally laugh that sliced  through the wavering silence otherwise only interrupted by the soft hum of the heater and filtration system built into the pool.

 

“Hey buddy!” The doctor barked, drawing Miles’ green orbs to stare up in fear of the man, seeing him sitting nonchalantly by the side tables with his feet kicked up on an adjacent stool comfortably watching Miles sleep. Grey eyes peered over the wire rimmed glasses that were sliding down the beak of a nose attached to Trager’s face. It made Miles think of a seagull, always squawking at him from afar. The doctor swiftly rose from his spot and glided over to the wading pool, crouching down beside it to examine the male’s expression. Grasping at his chin to tilt his head up but before he could do what he intended, Miles turned his head and pulled away from the hold. He felt a sharp slap run across his face as the hand gripped his chin again, pulling him back to face him. This time Miles didn’t stop there.

 

He used his hand to splash Dr. Trager in the face, swatting his hand away with his free hand and pushing off the edge of the pool to get some distance. As he turned away, he felt a hand grasp his dorsal fin and pull him back over. He grabbed at the bottom of the pool, splashing with his tail to get away from the man when the familiar dreaded buzzing began. He froze in place, feeling the device inside him start humming to life and stimulating that one special spot that had him weak. He shrieked and flailed wildly but it steadily died down to him writhing in the shallow waters. His human half curling up to his tail, the end fins slapping at the surface in pitiful twitching motions.

 

“Now we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Disobedience deserves discipline.” The doctor’s hand reached out and grabbed him by the tail and with quite a bit of effort, pulled him back towards the side of the pool. Enough that his arms could be grabbed instead and pulled closer. “Your actions have consequences and with each bit of rebellion it will only continue to get worse.” Trager explained simply as if he was scolding a small child over the ways of the world. Or chastising a puppy that didn’t know that it’s not supposed to tinkle on the carpet or chew on Master’s slippers. After another minute or so of the torment, Trager spoke up. “Are you going to be a good boy now Miles?”

 

There was a moment of hesitation before Miles gave a slow nod in affirmation. That seemed to satisfy Trager enough to turn the device off. “Good.” His gloved fingers found their way to roam through the thick earthen locks of Miles’ hair. Stroking through a few times as the doctor took a moment to enjoy the miserable expression on his subject’s features. The twisting grimace of fear and slowly failing will. He could almost see the fight dying out inside him and that made the scientist grin. He ate up every last bit of it. Of course, he enjoyed a nice obedient pet but he also enjoyed the struggle and fight they put up on the way to complete and total submission. It makes it that much more fun. Taking something wild and turning it into a tame animal whose only purpose is party tricks and entertaining others. There was something deeply appealing in that. The exhilaration of control and submission.

 

After a moment, his hands withdrew from Miles’ hair to return to a folded posture tucked behind his back. A look of superiority and power over the small hybrid “Now then pet. Look up at your master. Give me a smile.” He commanded simply. His expression neutral, hidden behind an observant gaze. Miles slowly raised his head, green eyes still holding the fires of rebellion but he gritted his teeth and pulled his lips back into a smile that bordered on a snarl of displeasure. Trager grunted at that and shook his head. Pinching the bridge of his nose. “Guess we’ll have to work on that.” He turned back around to his work space, fiddling around with the array of tools and equipment he had laid out before opening a drawer on the side and dug through until he found what he was looking for. All the while humming softly to himself, a very positive tune as if he were fussing around in the kitchen while baking a cake.

 

When he turned back to Miles, he kept one hand behind his back and calmly approached the pool. Grabbing up Miles by his chin again and holding it firmly. “Open your mouth.” He directed in a smooth almost sing song tune. Miles hesitated, his green orbs glancing between the doctor and trying to see what exactly he had behind him but his attempts were thwarted as his his chin was forced downward while the doctor’s thumb rose up to force his mouth open. Pushing against his lip to pinch it between his teeth and make them part. He looped a contraption around the back of Miles’ head and started to fix the hooks in place on his lips but Miles started to pull away again. Bewildered and surprised by the object, he fought the doctor who seemed all in all, to be growing tired of the unruly behavior. He pulled on the contraption but Miles leaned forward and slipped it back off, drawing away from the side of the pool in puzzlement and caution. His hands held up defensively as emerald orbs examined the device. It looked like a dental gag to be honest. The kind used to keep someone’s mouth open and pull their lips away from their gums.

 

The ex-journalist flinched when the doctor clicked his tongue in displeasure. The humming of the pool system stopped, making the room fall silent as the doctor pressed a button on the remote in hand, withdrawing it from his pocket. There was a moment’s silence extending between them before Miles screeched in surprise and pain. A sharp jolt of electricity assaulted him from all sides like angry serpents biting and lunging at him all at once. He writhed and squirmed as each jolt increased in intensity and pain. Allowing only a few seconds in between before the next one. His body started to seize up from the power of the shocks, twisting and trembling by time the doctor was satisfied. His tail and fingers curling awkwardly in distress. His body trying to flex and stretch at the same time in odd ways. Once the device was turned off, the sing song tune had faded from the doctor’s voice. Now it was sharp and cold. “Come here Miles.” He directed immediately after, demanding the hybrid move back towards the side of the pool.

 

The journalist was left panting and shaky but he managed to start dragging himself towards the edge of the pool. There was water speckling his face from all the splashing and one could almost mistake them for tears falling down his cheeks. He sniffled and collapsed beside the edge, lying on his side with his fin pressed against the bottom, as far over as he could possibly lie. His head turned to stare up at the distant blue lighting above the pool. The same sort of lighting formed beneath it to capture his sleek gray form in the darkness. Like a lovely caress of beauty for a body that was already broken. The doctor didn’t demand he sit up, reaching down, he worked around the chain, ensuring he didn’t accidentally catch it in the contraption and fixed it around Miles’ head. The journalist parted his lips as urged by a curt tug on his chin and the device forced his face into a gruesome smile. Pulling his lips painfully tight in the process and digging into his gums that was bordering on excruciating. Leaving the taste of blood on his tongue.

 

“See how much easier it is when you obey?” The doctor chastised once more. This time Miles didn’t receive a pat on the head or any fond caresses. The grey haired male simply turned and headed back over to his desk where he occupied himself for several long minutes. Humming softly to himself before coming back over to the pool, this time holding the journalist’s camera, walking in circles around the pool as he zoomed in on the defeated posture of his specimen. “Smile for the camera Miles!” The doctor chuckled as he did an overhead view of the hybrid’s mouth forced open into the chilling smile. His eyes held the grief and pain of his situation. Pleading to the camera as if in some off chance somebody might see the footage and come to his rescue. He knew that was highly unlikely yet he couldn’t help but try.

 

The rest of the afternoon consisted of time spent in the contraption, nearly an hours worth before it was removed from his face. In the meantime he was forced through several different positions. The doctor made him flex his tail and stretch his body as far as he possibly could under threat of further electrocution should he disobey. He filmed the entire session as he did a series of different stretches. Some on his sides, some on his stomach. Some making him arch backwards and some were curling forward as tightly as he possibly could, even making him tuck his tail to his chest. He made him do these for a few minutes each with two minute breaks in between and switching them up so he doesn’t over stress the muscles in that area. By the time he was done and freed from both the commands and the device, his entire body ached. His muscles and bones were loosened up a bit more but he was sore from all the activity and so very tired.

 

After the sessions, he was left alone for a couple minutes before Trager returned with another blended surprise. This time the contents were a sickly green paste like concoction he was forced to swallow down. This time under threat of being force fed. _‘At least it doesn’t smell like fish.’_ Was about the only good thing Miles could say about it as he choked down the disgusting paste. It reminded him of the time he got beat up in elementary school and was forced to eat a big sod of grass and dirt. Only less gritty and more slippery? He wasn’t really sure what to call the texture but it was barely bearable to consume without the immediate urge to be sick.

 

He deposited the empty container outside of his pool for the doctor or one of the twins to pick back up before returning to a curled position. His attention was taken when the quiet footsteps returned to the room, too light to be one of the twins and when he looked up, a nasally voice spoke up. “Good boy.” The gloved hand found its way to his hair and curled through the thick chocolatey locks. In the doctor’s other hand was a thick plastic bag like the kind one would get from a mall. It was durable and able to carry large objects. His fingers held the handles of the bag lazily as he busied himself with praising Miles' first act of obedience without being forced to stare down a proverbial barrel.

 

“I figured you might be cold so I brought this. Obedience is met with rewards. You be a good boy and you will be rewarded more often. Disobey and…” His voice trailed for a moment as he opened the bag and pulled out a dark earthy colored object, unfolding it in front of Miles’ widening green orbs. “I’ll burn it right in front of you.” He explained, holding it up in front of Miles. “Am I understood?”

 

Miles nodded quickly and feared that might not be enough and offered a shrill inhaled bark in confirmation. His eyes fixed on the familiar worn leather and spotted the warm cotton inlay of the liner within. His expression was hopeful which the doctor took note of and held the jacket to display before his eyes for a few more minutes. Soaking up the increasing panic that the grey haired male wasn’t going to give it to him. Once he was satisfied that the journalist was on the very edge of losing it with the racing thoughts darting around inside his mind, he handed it over to Miles.

 

His fingers curled hesitantly around the dark material as if expecting it to be ripped away from his grasp before he could take it into his possession. Trager just watched him quietly and let him have it. Stepping back to the desk where the camera remained filming his pet the entire time he was gone. Miles tucked the material up close to his chest and held it tightly in his arms. Burying his face into the curl of the neck collar and brushing his fingers over the cotton lining. Inhaling the familiar scent. The scent of a human being. Of who he used to be. Of _what_ he used to be. He slowly curled up on himself, wrapping around the jacket as he scrunched it up against his torso, trying to hold every last inch of it as much as humanly possible. His shoulders shaking as tears rolled down his flushed cheeks. Falling over the material and leaving small damp spots on the cotton and leather.

 

His lips quivering before his whole body gave into the deep wracking sobs. No longer cognizant of the doctor’s presence just out of view and remaining quiet throughout. It was the most respectful gesture he has provided so far but Trager’s interests lie more in gathering data and he decided uninterrupted observation was satisfying for the time being. Recording the entire raw and emotional scene involving his specimen and a beloved object. It was almost adorable to the doctor. He watched the male devolve into frantic sobs and gasping breaths until he started to fall silent once more. The tears dampening the material even more now but the hybrid seemed unfazed.

 

After several long minutes, Miles was conflicted about his new predicament. He wanted the scent of his jacket to remain the same but feared ever letting go of it again. He didn’t want to lose what little bits of his humanity that clung to the old worn out material. It was a frantic tug of war that had stirred up his emotions once more into a panic. More tears fell as he sniffled, wiping at his face and shifting the material around against his bare torso. His thoughts fighting back and forth before he finally gave in and pulled the jacket on around his body. Slipping his arms into the sleeves and pulling at the opening, not messing with the zipper and instead just tugging on the edges to pull it taut over his shoulders as if he could form a protective cocoon around himself and hide for the rest of his miserable life. Savoring the soft cotton against his bare skin. The warmth that already radiated around him and the rising scent of his old self curling around his nostrils.

 

He leaned against the side of the pool and curled up with his tail tucked up close to himself, supporting his body in an upright posture to keep it from getting anymore wet then it already was. He closed his swollen and puffy green eyes, sniffling again, a wavering breath rising in his chest. The tightness from earlier adding to a lingering ache within as the jacket served as a reminder of the last shreds of his humanity, the only safeguard against losing himself completely to this maniac and his sickening experiments.

 

The doctor seemed satisfied with the outcome and quietly set aside the camera. Turning it off for now and leaving things to the surveillance cameras focused on the pool, getting shots of his specimen from all angles as Miles melted into the warm leather. He whistled softly as he wandered off, back up the stairs and out into the next room. Permitting his pet a reprieve from the day’s events and allowed him to submit to his own exhaustion with the aid of the special possession.


End file.
